


Wanderer

by deaddoh



Series: Epic Poem [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Greek myth AU, it's really chill actually, it's written like The Odyssey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-14 19:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18482707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaddoh/pseuds/deaddoh
Summary: Mark, of Gods' eyes





	Wanderer

                                                                      And

the King smiled, all wide eyed and arms open.

“Great wanderer of God’s eyes. What brings you

here to my humble palace of vaulted floors and 

roofs?” Mark, of Gods' eyes kneeled for King

Chelonian under his vaulted floors and roofs. “I am

a wanderer. Lost all of my crew, I did, to the wine

dark seas. For the God of earthquakes and rough 

seas saw my cutting hand slice through a long

forgotten daughter of his.” King Chelonian’s arms

fell to his sides, now in thought. “Now. Wanderer, it

seems you have come to the wrong palace. 

Poseidon is the God of this land, he brings the

currents for our seafaring men to travel, to bring 

livelihood to this craggy land.”

 

                                                                       Mark

stands, seeing the reluctance in Chelonian. “But, if 

needed. Seek shelter high in the hills of this land.”

Mark, in awe bows. “King Chelonian. Thank you 

for your assistance. And let Poseidon cherish you

so.” Chelonian holds his hand up, stopping Mark.

“I open my halls to you for one night. I will send you

on your way at first dawn.”

 

                                                                         At

Dawn’s red grasp, Mark rises from bed. A simple

bag rests by his feet. He grabs it and leaves King

Chelonian’s halls.

 

                                                                         As

Mark walks to the hills. He reminisces about his

own town. Resting right on the sea too, Orcinus

is the home of seafaring men. Men who feast on

bread and drink heady wine. Men who raise sheep

on the green, lucious hills that surround. Men 

ruled by a King who could call to the sealife.

 

                                                                       When

the sun begins to sink at the far water’s edge. 

Mark sees the shelter Chelonian had mentioned.

It is a small building, low to the ground. Mark walks

into the hut and settles onto the small mat of furs 

already on the floor before feeling sleep pull him.

**Author's Note:**

> it's written like The Odyssey (you know, the wholly extra POEM). this was really fun to write,as i'm currently reading it in class.


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